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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26296627">3:24am</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CongratulationsBaby/pseuds/CongratulationsBaby'>CongratulationsBaby</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wentworth (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:53:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,365</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26296627</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CongratulationsBaby/pseuds/CongratulationsBaby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Franky wakes Bridget up at 3:24am. </p>
<p>Fridget fluff set sometime after 6x03.</p>
<p>This is now going to be 3 one-shots all centered around 3:24am.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Franky Doyle/Bridget Westfall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 3:24am Proposal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A/N</p>
<p>So this has been sitting on the laptop for 7 months and I've finally decided to post it. Originally this was meant to be chapter 1 in a multi-chapter story of domestic happy Fridget and so I had 3 other chapters written... I might still turn it into a multi-chapter. However, for now it's a Fridget one-shot.</p>
<p>Rated T for language, and set some time after 6x03.</p>
<p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>3:24am</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Franky sighed and turned her head, looking at the alarm clock to her right.</p>
<p>
  <em>3:24am.</em>
</p>
<p>To the minute. That time mocked her back when she lay awake thinking of the mess that was Mike Pennisi, and it mocked her now.</p>
<p>With another aggravated puff of her cheeks, she turned her head back to her left and watched, now with a soft smile, as Bridget (her Gidge) slept on peacefully, unaware of Franky’s inability to join her in blissful sleep. The older woman’s short blonde hair was mussed adorably, and her breathing was delicate – an angel awake <em>and </em>asleep apparently.</p>
<p>Bridget Westfall. Franky’s guardian angel.</p>
<p>The sapphic psychologist (Franky hated that it was the Freak who said it first, but damn if it wasn’t fitting) had shown up at a time in Franky’s life when she needed her the most; when she needed that hope, that confidence, and that promise of a bright future. Her hot girl in a hot car, driving her off into the sunset. She needed love, and Bridget provided her with it in spades.</p>
<p>When Mike Pennisi entered back on to the scene and Franky faced another twenty years behind bars, Bridget never gave up on her. Even when they fought and they clawed at each other, when they tore each other apart emotionally (Franky would never stop apologising), and when Bridget walked out that office door (“goodbye Franky”), their love still remained. </p>
<p>Broken and battered, but very much alive.</p>
<p>And finally, when Franky escaped and was subsequently shot for her troubles, Bridget was there in a flash, patching her up, holding her close, providing her with unwavering support, and showing her that love truly conquered all. It was Bridget who lied her way into Wentworth, stealing from Vinega- <em>Vera </em>(“you shouldn’t call her that, baby”), and provided the keys to Iman’s lock-up garage. The small crack that caused the entire case made against Franky to break.</p>
<p>Bridget was certainly her guardian angel, and Franky didn’t know what she had done in her life to deserve her.</p>
<p>She was damn well going to try and keep her though.</p>
<p>“You’re staring.”</p>
<p>Bridget’s voice was muffled by the pillow, but it was enough to shake Franky from her thoughts and she met beautiful blue eyes, still struggling to break from dreams.</p>
<p>Whatever words Franky had planned, that had been rattling round her brain for hours, until <em>3 fucking</em> <em>24 </em>in the morning, disappeared the moment she looked into those eyes.</p>
<p>“You’re beautiful.”</p>
<p>Franky’s statement was a whisper, filled with an honesty that echoed her same declaration in the box car. Bridget snorted in response, letting out a huff of laughter as she pushed her head further in to the pillow.</p>
<p>When Franky didn’t follow up, instead choosing to continue to stare, Bridget finally acknowledged the compliment, and hummed in approval as she allowed herself to delight in the way the words wrapped around her and made her feel safe, wanted, <em>warm. </em> </p>
<p>“What’s on your mind, baby?” Bridget asked sleepily as she reached out a hand under the covers and entwined it with Franky’s own.</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh you, Gidge. Always you. The monumental amount of fucking love I have for you, how everyone in my life always leaves me but you never did and-</em>
</p>
<p>“Marry me, Gidge.”</p>
<p>The words escaped her on a sigh, and Franky’s eyes widened as she realised too late what she had said.</p>
<p>She watched as Bridget inhaled sharply, her eyes now alert and filled with- was it cautionary hope or abject terror? Either way she made no move to respond, her hand still gripping Franky’s and giving nothing away.</p>
<p>Franky turned her head back to look up at the ceiling and wiped her free hand over her face. She let out a frustrated groan, annoyed with herself for once more fucking up a good, solid plan.</p>
<p>“Fuck,” she exhaled, turning back to Bridget who still hadn’t moved, “I had a whole speech prepared. I was going to wine and dine you, even scatter rose petals and all that shit.”</p>
<p>When she realised there was still no reaction from Bridget, she ploughed on.</p>
<p>“Now that the entire plan is fucked, I guess I better just get to the point,” Franky paused and placed her other hand on Bridget’s, cupping the blonde’s hand with both of her own. Her grip was firm, assured. Nothing like how she felt.</p>
<p>“I fucking love you, Gidge. I used to believe that those I love would always leave, so that kind of shit always scared me. When I fell for you, I was terrified you’d do the same, build me up then let me down like everyone else. But you didn’t. You entered my life and showed me that people stay… and that love doesn’t always lead to disappointment.”</p>
<p>Franky watched as a tear tracked down Bridget’s face, but she made no move to wipe it away. Instead, her hand moved out of Franky’s tight grip and started to absently trace patterns along her forearm, comforting. Her eyes remained glued to Franky, no doubt assessing the statement in her own analytical way.</p>
<p>“I know…” Franky swallowed, “I know that we’re still working through issues, and I know that I put you through so much shit those months ago when I was back behind bars, but you’re the only woman I want to spend my life with.”</p>
<p>She finally finished and watched Bridget’s face closely, scrutinising every micro-expression in the hopes of figuring out if she was about to be the happiest woman on earth or utterly heartbroken.</p>
<p>She was stupid, this was <em>stupid. </em>Who blurts this out at fucking 3:30 in the morning?</p>
<p>Eventually, after what felt like hours, but was in fact less than a minute, Franky felt Bridget’s hand slowly move up and rest lightly on her chest, over her heart.</p>
<p>“You’re right.” Bridget replied gently, “we are still working everything out, and what has happened between us won’t disappear with a few vows.”</p>
<p><em>Fuck</em>. ‘Utterly heartbroken’ it was then.</p>
<p>Franky turned her head back to the ceiling and felt tears build in her eyes, releasing and tracking their way down her face toward the pillow beneath her head. She’d fucked up. Bridget couldn’t commit to a life with her, she should have known that this was the probable outcome. And yet she’d hoped.</p>
<p>The firm pressure of Bridget’s hand, the light scratch of her nails on Franky’s skin, brought her back, and she was startled when the blonde suddenly shifted to prop herself up on her elbow, her face hovering above her.</p>
<p>“<em>However</em>,” Bridget drawled, and there was a glint of something – was that mischief? – in her eyes, “that being said, I meant what I said that day in the box car. No matter what… we’re in this together.”</p>
<p>Her hand, which was pressed over Franky’s heart, slowly came up and brushed away the tear track from her face and Franky felt like her heart was exploding as the weight of Bridget’s sentence sunk in.</p>
<p>Could she possibly mean-</p>
<p>“For real?” Franky asked shakily.</p>
<p>“For real,” Bridget affirmed, her smile bright enough to light the fucking neighbourhood, not just the room, “yes, I’ll marry you.”</p>
<p>Franky surged up and pulled Bridget’s face down to hers for a kiss, one that pulled the breath from both of them as her hand entwined in the short blonde hair, keeping her fiancée – her <em>fiancée </em>– in place. It was only when Franky felt a moan reverberate from Bridget’s throat, that she drew back and flopped back on to the bed beneath them.</p>
<p>“Fuck, Gidge!” the brunette threw her hands up over her face, letting out a puff of laughter, “you nearly gave me a fucking heart attack!”</p>
<p>Bridget laughed, still reeling from their kiss, and it was music to her ears.</p>
<p>“Sorry. You looked so hopeless, baby, I couldn’t help myself.”</p>
<p>Franky couldn’t contain her smile, even when she knew she was being teased. She was going to marry Bridget <em>fucking </em>Westfall. Her bright future was right there, waiting to be seized.</p>
<p>Bridget composed herself and looked tenderly over at Franky’s still shaking form. The brunette’s utter elation was rolling off of her in waves, and Bridget couldn’t help but push.</p>
<p>“So… may I ask why you threw your plans out the window and started this conversation at nearly 4am in the morning? Is there something I’m missing?”</p>
<p>Franky, still utterly ecstatic, shrugged and pulled Bridget into her arms, letting the slender frame of the blonde rest on her. Their breathing evened out, synchronising in a way that only confirmed how perfectly they fit together.</p>
<p>“I just wanted a better memory for 3:24am, that’s all,” she kissed Bridget’s forehead.</p>
<p>“Well,” Bridget sighed, her eyes closing once more but the most beautiful smile still on her face, “we’ll unpack that one later. Together.”</p>
<p>Always together.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 3:24am Wedding Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Franky and Bridget's wedding night, with a certain time on the alarm clock bringing about a confession.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N</p><p>I didn't really feel like writing today, but apparently I was taken hostage by my own muse.</p><p>So this chapter means I've upped the rating of the whole story to 'M' - this is for scenes of a sexual nature (or if you'd rather, imagine Liz Lemon saying 'sessual' and thank me later for that one). </p><p>Kudos to rozyk80 and QueenBNYC for suggesting more chapters (and a wedding chapter) - this is the wedding night and, although there is not a lot of focus on the wedding aspect itself, I just wanted to thank you both for the suggestion!</p><p>Thanks again are given to Green_Lemon who receives many a message asking for advice and input :D GL apparently actually lets me do that with no visible eye-rolls so that definitely deserves a thank you &lt;3</p><p>Anyway, ch2 for you all (in what is now a 3-part story) so hope you enjoy!</p><p>Disclaimer: I do not own Wentworth or any of the characters, you know, the usual 'don't sue me' content.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Franky clutched at the bedsheets desperately, feeling herself on the very edge of ecstasy. She was tense, ready to topple over, thrusting her head to the side in reaction to another ripple of pleasure washing through her.</p><p>
  <em>So close.</em>
</p><p>Her eyes opened blearily, catching sight of the flickering of the candles on the bedside table.</p><p>
  <em>Ffuucckk. </em>
</p><p>Another gasp left her lips as her heels dug into the bed beneath her. <em>Fuck, fuck, fuck. </em>She was warring between her desire for the feeling to last forever, and her urge to just let go.</p><p>Past the candles now, her eyes fell on the alarm clock.</p><p>
  <em>3:24am.</em>
</p><p>Franky felt herself tense slightly and it had nothing to do with the absolute goddess between her legs. Her mind was transported to her car…</p><p>
  <em>… Mike Pennisi…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>… the chef’s blowtorch so close to her face she could feel the heat…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>… Gidge is going to be so mad…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>… so disappointed…</em>
</p><p>She didn’t realise she was spiralling until she felt a gentle bite at the inside of her thigh. Franky looked down, breaking her view of the time that continued to haunt her.</p><p>“Stay with me, baby,” Bridget softly whispered, her eyes twinkling, as she trailed kisses along the sensitive skin.</p><p>Franky nodded shakily in response, hearing her, <em>really </em>hearing her, and she removed her hand from the bedsheet, reaching over past the candles and pushing the alarm clock off of the bedside table. It fell to the floor, the sound of <em>something </em>breaking. No more time.</p><p>She felt more than heard Bridget’s resultant chuckle, reverberating against her centre and Franky closed her eyes.</p><p>“Okay,” she uttered, both hands reaching down to curl into Bridget’s short blonde hair, “<em>okay.</em>”</p><p>“Okay,” Franky heard Bridget whisper in reassurance as she doubled down in her efforts to bring Franky to the brink once more, “<em>I’ve got you.</em>”</p><p>And minutes later Franky fell over the edge, her back arching and her hands tightening in Bridget’s hair as she convulsed in a silent cry, safe in the knowledge that Bridget really did have her.</p><p>As she came down, Franky felt Bridget slowly kiss her way up her body before nuzzling her face into her neck with a content sigh. Bridget then flopped down on her side next to Franky and rested her head against her hand, leaning over with a patient expression.</p><p>“Fuck, Gidge,” was all Franky could say, her breathing slowly returning to normal, “that was something else.”</p><p>She wanted to ignore it, the feeling that Bridget was waiting on her, expectant, but her partner would not let her.</p><p>“I lost you for a minute there. I think it’s time we discussed it,” Bridget simply said, before lapsing into silence as she waited for an answer.</p><p>“Am I speaking to my therapist?” Franky joked weakly. She regretted it as soon as she heard the sharp intake of breath next to her. Bridget’s hand trailed across her body and gently cupped Franky’s hand in her own, thumb gliding over the silver band on her ring finger.</p><p>“You’re speaking to your wife,” Bridget replied, “everything you say in and out of this bedroom is to your <em>wife, </em>Franky.”</p><p>Franky smiled in response, feeling tears build in her eyes. Just over twelve hours ago, they had stood in front of an officiant and declared their commitment and love aloud to each other. Attendance had been small, just her dad Alan, her sister Tess (who had insisted on holding the rings), Vera, and Will. If there was an afterlife, Franky just knew that Bea and Liz were watching too, witnessing the day that <em>Franky Doyle </em>got married, no doubt with glee. They had spent their wedding night in their home, Franky not wanting to be anywhere else but in their own bed, with candles lit and slowly burning down as they made love into the early hours of the morning.</p><p>
  <em>3:24am.</em>
</p><p>Franky sighed and covered her eyes with her other hand. Apparently not even a proposal, the happiest moment of her life (up until today), could block out the thoughts and associations that plagued her.</p><p>And so she started, hesitantly.</p><p>“The day when I went and saw Mike Pennisi,” Franky whispered, not wanting to look at Bridget just yet for fear of that look of heartbreak, of disappointment, “and he, uh, attacked me in the car…”</p><p>She heard the movement of Bridget’s body and the rustle of the bedsheets but little else.</p><p>“Remember I came home early that day?”</p><p>Bridget hummed in response, and Franky felt those piercing blue eyes on her face. Again, no interruption.</p><p>“I told you I just wanted to cuddle that night,” she continued, feeling braver, “it’s because I knew I was about to lose <em>everything </em>I loved. I stayed up all night watching. I watched the clock, I watched the ceiling, but mainly I watched you.”</p><p>A soft exhale. Franky dropped her hand from her eyes and instead stared into the watery depths of Bridget’s. Franky continued to clutch at Bridget’s hand, not wanting to lose the lifeline of physical touch, to ground her as she <em>remembered </em>the all-consuming fear of that night.</p><p>“I was <em>so </em>fucking scared, Gidge,” she admitted, her voice breaking, “I thought I was going to lose you and everything we had. You said you were so happy and <em>I </em>fucked that up, I self-sabotaged <em>again </em>as you’d say<em>… </em>and I just remember wanting to memorise every single part of you, of us, of <em>this,</em> because I knew it wasn’t going to last.”</p><p>Bridget’s grip tightened on her hand and she pulled it toward her to tenderly kiss Franky’s knuckles. Franky felt a tear brush against her fingers as Bridget sighed and nuzzled into her palm.</p><p>“The clock said 3:24am,” Franky concluded, “and you were <em>so </em>fucking beautiful, laying there asleep and peaceful, I just felt so fucking scared that you would lose <em>everything, </em>all of it, because of me.”</p><p>“Okay,” Bridget stopped her, her voice soft and <em>so </em>tender that Franky felt her own tears start to fall, “shh, shh, oh baby.”</p><p>Bridget continued to hush her and stop the tears tracking down Franky’s cheeks, gripping her hand so tightly in an effort to keep her in the present, with her in bed. Franky felt her breathing tighten, could recognise the signs of the floodgates opening, but it was Bridget’s voice, her whispered reassurances (“shh, baby, I’m here, I’m here, I’ve got you”), that made her fight the overwhelming desire to collapse in on herself.</p><p>Eventually, her breathing slowed and her tears dried up, and Franky was left feeling lighter than she had in a long time, like she had when she had admitted to Bridget that she had killed Meg Jackson. Bridget continued to soothe her, hand now gently wiping the tear tracks from Franky’s face.</p><p>“Thank you for telling me,” Bridget said, “I had no idea. I knew something was wrong, I felt it… but I had <em>no </em>idea.”</p><p>“I tried to do it all on my own,” Franky responded reassuringly, to purge Bridget’s guilt, “I didn’t want you getting caught up in my shit-show, in <em>my </em>mistakes. Not that it mattered, eh? You got caught up anyway.”</p><p>“Franky, look at me,” Franky turned her head and Bridget raised her left hand up, her own silver band reflecting in the candlelight, “you see this?”</p><p>Franky nodded.</p><p>“Do you know what this is?”</p><p>“It’s a fucking expensive way of trapping you in, Gidge.”</p><p>Bridget snorted at the remark and Franky grinned, her eyes now lighter than Bridget had witnessed a few moments ago.</p><p>“It’s a commitment,” Bridget explained, “a vow. You are <em>not </em>in this alone anymore, you never were. I need you to remember that, okay? Anything that happens, we face it <em>together </em>as partners, yeah?”</p><p>Franky nodded again, this one more hesitant.</p><p>“Which <em>means </em>Mrs Westfall-Doyle<em>,</em>” Bridget leaned closer and placed her lips reassuring on Franky’s collarbone, kissing a small trail up her neck. Franky sighed, “that next time you wake up at <em>3 </em>fucking <em>24am</em>, you wake <em>me </em>up too.”</p><p>Franky drew Bridget in against her side, feeling right for the first time since she proposed as she could no longer see the time on the alarm clock.</p><p>“We’ll stay up and watch the time together,” Bridget whispered into her neck.</p><p>Franky smiled at her wife.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Don't tell me it's not worth WRITIN' for<br/>You can't tell me it's not worth READIN' for<br/>You know it's trueeeeeee<br/>If my fridget are for yoooouuuuu<br/>You can always reviewwwwwww</p><p>Read, kudos, comment, but more importantly ENJOY &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 3:24am The Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Franky wakes up from a dream, which leads to a heart-to-heart with Bridget.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N</p>
<p>Third and final instalment of 3:24am - woohoo officially finished! :)</p>
<p>Huge thanks once more to Green_Lemon who read it over and made suggestions that were game-changers for this chapter &lt;3 </p>
<p>Nothing much to say except I hope you all enjoy :D </p>
<p>Disclaimer: I do not own Wentworth or any of the characters, you know, the usual 'don't sue me' content.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Trees, trees, trees…</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Franky stumbled through the forest, her short breaths visible in front of her, whisps of white, as the temperature continued to drop. How long had she been there now?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She was looking for something… someone. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“So many… fucking trees!” she heaved out as her body fell forward into a large, wizened trunk. More trees surrounded her, she was in the middle of nowhere, and the only sound were the haunting calls of birds used to the darkness. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Franky!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A voice, a beautiful voice, and Franky knew that voice anywhere. It was a melody to her and her only, like a siren calling to her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Gidge!” She called out in response. Franky turned around in circle, squinting in the darkness, trying to recall from which direction Bridget’s voice has echoed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Franky! Baby?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There it was again, and Franky let out a relieved huff, a smile forming on her face. She was looking for Bridget. She turned to the voice, sure it had come from her left, and hurried on through the thicket.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Gidge?” Franky called out every so often, pausing and waiting for the response. Every time within seconds, she was met with a “Franky!” and she pushed on, more determined than ever. Bridget’s voice was getting stronger every step she took.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Eventually, she came to a clearing and Bridget stood before her, wearing a beautiful white nightdress that fell to her knees, and little else. In her arms, she cradled a small bundle of blankets, and she gazed down at it lovingly.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Franky didn’t feel a lick of surprise or questioning at the wonderous sight before her. It felt natural to her, walking up to Bridget, and a sense of peace enveloped her when she saw Bridget softly cooing down at the bundle, and a small chubby hand reaching out to grab at her nose in response.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Sorry I’m late,” Franky breathed out. She placed an arm around Bridget’s waist and used her other hand to gently pull at the blankets, finding an innocent little face staring up at her, unblinking. The baby’s eyes were blue, just like Bridget’s, and Franky was captivated.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A part of her mind questioned why she wasn’t more scared at the sight. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The forest had scared her, the trees (so many trees) had scared her, because it meant that Franky was lost. Before Bridget, Franky was never lost because she never knew where she needed to be. Reuniting with Bridget and this baby, their baby she realised belatedly, filled her with a warmth that only came with finding her way home.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’re right on time,” Bridget smiled reassuringly, shifting the happy bundle in her arms so Franky could gently take possession. Franky cradled the baby and picked up where Bridget left off, cooing at them and receiving delighted giggles.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Bridget placed a soft kiss to Franky’s cheek as she watched the two of them, her wide smile giving away just how much she was enjoying their time.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What’s their name?” Franky whispered.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“3:24am.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Huh?” Franky looked up in confusion at the cryptic answer. Bridget merely continued to smile, nodding her head as if she just imparted some great wisdom.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“3:24am.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Gidge, you can’t name a baby that, I-“</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Franky, wake up.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>****</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Franky jolted awake, her alert eyes scanning her surroundings as the fog of the dream lifted from her. She focused on four of her senses, seeing the walls of the bedroom, feeling the softness of the pillows and duvet, hearing nothing, just the sound of silence, and smelling a hint of Bridget’s perfume.</p>
<p>
  <em>One breath, two breaths, three breaths. </em>
</p>
<p>Sometimes Franky had bad dreams, especially since her second turn in Wentworth, and Bridget had taught her a few breathing and relaxation exercises for when she woke abruptly. Focus on each sense, take deep breaths, count to ten… usually, a warm arm wrapped around her waist and a steady heartbeat at her back, helped a lot too. Speaking of which…</p>
<p>Franky rolled over and was met with an empty bed. Her hand travelled over the indent that was Bridget’s side, feeling residual warmth. Wherever Bridget was, it hadn’t been too long since she’d left their bed. Working on the assumption that Bridget had gone to the bathroom (she was a nightmare for that), Franky looked over to her bedside table, searching for the time. No neon numbers greeted her and she sighed. It had been two years since she broke the alarm clock, and as per their agreement to keep the time <em>out </em>of the bedroom, they hadn’t replaced it. Franky’s hand fumbled on the table for her phone, switching it on and grimacing immediately as she did so.</p>
<p>
  <em>3:24am. </em>
</p>
<p>She really should have fucking guessed that one, and suddenly Franky was struck with an urge to go find Bridget, suspecting the moment too significant to have been a toilet break. She quietly shifted out of bed, her feet hitting the warm hardwood floor, and padded over to the door and out of the room. She passed the bathroom, door open and light off, and instead headed toward the room where light peeked from under the door. The guest bedroom.</p>
<p>
  <em>Ah.</em>
</p>
<p>Franky remembered that Tess was with them this weekend. Though she was a few years older now, Tess would still often wake up in the night, her little star nightlight not enough to keep the monsters at bay, and one of them would be called into her room to stay with her until she fell back asleep. Tonight, it was Bridget’s turn apparently.</p>
<p>Franky pushed the guest bedroom door open hesitantly and her breath caught at the sight before her, as it did in her dream.</p>
<p>Bridget was sitting on the edge of Tess’ bed (“it’s <em>my </em>bed,” Tess had told them imperiously a little over a year ago), watching the young girl sleep with a soft smile as she pushed a strand of Tess’ brown hair out of her eyes. There was a tenderness in Bridget in this moment, as she gazed dotingly upon Franky’s little sister, that made Franky’s chest tighten, her heart ache.</p>
<p>Perhaps it was the dream that she had just had and the revelation of peace and contentment that came with it, but whatever it was, it made Franky feel brave.</p>
<p>“Gidge?” she whispered, and startled Bridget away from Tess, her head whipping round and blue eyes landing on Franky’s face.</p>
<p>“Franky?” Bridget’s cheeks reddened, and Franky inwardly smiled at the thought of Bridget considering herself caught out, “what are you doing up?”</p>
<p>“I had a dream and when I woke up, you weren’t in bed. Thought I’d find ya here.”</p>
<p>“Mmm,” Bridget hummed in response, “Tess wanted some water. Thought I’d make sure she got back off to sleep okay, sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”</p>
<p>“Nuh,” Franky shook her head and moved into the room, “it wasn’t a <em>bad </em>dream.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Franky held out her hand, and gently tugged Bridget up and into her arms. Bridget’s arms wrapped around Franky and she rested her head against her shoulder, Franky rocking them slightly, “why did the dream wake you up then?”</p>
<p>Franky tightened her hold and Bridget huffed out a laugh.</p>
<p>“Oh god, it wasn’t a dirty dream was it?”</p>
<p>Franky laughed, feeling absolutely content with Bridget in her arms.</p>
<p>“You naughty minx,” Franky pulled away slightly, looking down at her wife, “it was a good dream…”</p>
<p>“Baby…”</p>
<p>Bridget left her unspoken question hanging, hoping that Franky would take the bait and say what was on her mind.</p>
<p>“Guess what the time was when I woke up, Gidge.”</p>
<p>Franky watched as a calculating look appeared in Bridget’s eyes, followed just as quickly by realisation. Bridget sighed sadly.</p>
<p>“Oh no.”</p>
<p>“Yup.”</p>
<p>“But it’s been nearly two years since that time came up.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>“What were you dreaming about?” Bridget asked.</p>
<p>“Have you ever thought about having kids?”</p>
<p>As soon as the question left Franky’s lips, she felt Bridget tense in her arms and her normally expressive eyes reflected nothing back. Franky applauded Bridget’s sensitivity toward certain topics, but she wished she could gauge <em>something </em>from her right now.</p>
<p>“Bridget?” The use of her full name seemed to do <em>something, </em>as Bridget exhaled slowly.</p>
<p>“Fucking hell, Franky,” Bridget whispered, “I… can we maybe go into the kitchen?”</p>
<p>Franky tugged at Bridget’s hand and pulled them out of Tess’ room, shutting the door quietly behind them. Bridget moved down the hall silently and Franky could see as she followed a certain set in her shoulders. Like she was getting ready to go into battle.</p>
<p>When they reached the kitchen, Franky moved to one of the kitchen stools, seating herself, whilst Bridget stood on the other side of the counter, leaning down on it with her elbows. She sighed.</p>
<p>“That’s quite a big topic for this time of night,” Bridget said, and Franky noted that she looked pensive, unsure, “but then again that seems to be what we do.”</p>
<p>Franky leaned forward, listening.</p>
<p>“I won’t lie to you so yes, I’ve always thought about having kids.”</p>
<p>Bridget waited, looking over at Franky uncertainly, seeking… what? Forgiveness? Forgiveness for dreaming of extending their family? Franky understood her reluctance to admit it, knowing that a few years ago she would likely have ran a mile had Bridget ever suggested it. Not that Bridget would have, having always reaffirmed that Franky was <em>enough </em>(“she’s like a kid sometimes anyway, really” she often joked when they were out with friends and the conversation arose).</p>
<p>“So why haven’t you had kids? I mean, before now, before us,” Franky asked delicately, reaching across with both hands and pulling Bridget’s hand in between her own, wrapping around it and delivering warmth and reassurance.</p>
<p>Bridget shrugged.</p>
<p>“Honestly? I guess I never found the right partner,” she admitted, “I’ve had a few serious partners in my lifetime but every time I thought about it and mentioned it, something else always took priority. Holidays, careers, travel, another woman- <em>don’t</em>.“</p>
<p>Franky opened her mouth to protest, aghast at the thought, but Bridget raised her other hand to silence her. She was smiling ruefully, letting Franky know that she was over whatever had happened in her past.</p>
<p>“So eventually I stopped bringing it up,” she concluded, “I still wonder sometimes what I would have been like as a mother and what a child would have been like, growing up with all the love I had to give them… but it just wasn’t meant to be.”</p>
<p>Bridget smiled again, this time warm but with a melancholy edge that Franky caught only because she knew her wife so well.</p>
<p>“I’m happy with you and with us and with this life, Franky. Please don’t <em>ever</em> doubt it, and I don’t need a child; I have everything I want right here.”</p>
<p>Franky felt her eyes start to water at the thought of Bridget throughout the years, waiting and hoping. Franky felt like an arse, having never thought to ask and always assuming that because <em>she</em> thought she would never want kids, Bridget must feel the same or at least never have considered it seriously.</p>
<p>And now here Franky was, ready to lay all her cards on the table just as Bridget had done moments ago, safe in the feeling of security and peace that the dream had given her.</p>
<p>“My dream was about a baby.”</p>
<p>Bridget froze and, save for a shaky exhale, Franky would think that she had turned to stone. A beat of silence before-</p>
<p>“Tell me all about it,” Bridget urged, and Franky did. They spent fifteen minutes holding hands, Franky’s thumbs softly mapping Bridget’s knuckles as she divulged everything, from her fear in the middle of the forest to her <em>finally </em>finding Bridget and the baby in her arms. At the end, Bridget looked thoughtful more than anything, though there was still trepidation in her eyes.</p>
<p>“So what’s your professional wifely opinion?” Franky asked quietly. She already had an inkling of what the dream signified, more a <em>revelation </em>really, but she needed to know what Bridget thought more than anything.</p>
<p>“Honestly? I don’t know,” Bridget paused as she collected her thoughts. She looked troubled, “having a dream about a family and then waking up at 3:24am?”</p>
<p>She sighed.</p>
<p>“3:24am has always been associated with <em>fear, </em>ever since Pennisi. Maybe you woke up at that time <em>because </em>of the dream.”</p>
<p>Franky raised her eyebrows, and Bridget expanded.</p>
<p>“Maybe your body naturally associates fear with that time, and so your fear of having children or a family of your own, which was the main component of this dream, meant that you automatically woke up at 3:24am.”</p>
<p>Franky nodded slowly, acknowledging what Bridget was saying, but her own revelation was pressing on her and she needed to clear the air.</p>
<p>“Except,” Franky started quietly, “I wasn’t scared.”</p>
<p>“Hmm?” Bridget looked at her, curious.</p>
<p>“I <em>wasn’t </em>scared,” Franky reiterated, “I think you’re right, you always are, I think I’ve associated 3:24 with <em>something… </em>but I don’t think it’s fear anymore.”</p>
<p>Bridget remained silent, allowing for Franky to put forward her own thoughts. This capacity for conversation, for communication, was what made their marriage so strong throughout the years.</p>
<p>“I was shit scared that first time, not gonna lie, but I was also thinking about <em>you, </em>and how much I love you. The second time? I was wanting to make better memories and again it was all about you, and us, and I proposed.”</p>
<p>Bridget remained silent, staring at her and waiting patiently.</p>
<p>“And our wedding night? Well,” Franky’s tongue raked across her teeth, “an orgasm at that time certainly helped, s’all I’m saying.”</p>
<p>Bridget laughed.</p>
<p>“The dream I had was about family, a family of our <em>own,</em> but… I wasn’t scared. In fact, Gidge, I had never felt more at peace with, well, <em>everything.</em>”</p>
<p>Bridget’s breath caught and Franky took that opportunity, getting up off of the stool and moving round the counter. She wrapped Bridget firmly in her arms, hands on her hips, as Bridget lazily hung her arms around Franky’s neck. Franky pulled her closer, until they were sharing the same breath, their noses touching. She delivered a soft kiss to her lips, lingering there.  </p>
<p>“3:24 isn’t about fear anymore,” she whispered tenderly, “it’s about you, me, <em>us.</em> It’s about <em>love.</em>”</p>
<p>“Franky…” Bridget’s own hands moved to cup the back of Franky’s head, “what are you saying?”</p>
<p>Franky smiled, and it was a smile that could have lit up the entire neighbourhood.</p>
<p>“I think I want to have kids with you, Gidge.”</p>
<p>Bridget’s eyes sparkled at the words, and she laughed softly. Tears formed and rolled down her cheeks as she pulled Franky in for a searing kiss, their lips melding together with all the love that the both of them felt pouring into it.</p>
<p><em>“Yes,</em>” Bridget whispered emphatically as she pulled away, before bringing Franky’s lips once more down to her own and delivering sweet, light kisses, punctuating each word, “<em>yes, yes, yes.</em>”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading, commenting, and enjoying this fic so far - I hope the last chapter is a good ending for all you lovely people :)</p>
<p>Much love &lt;3 </p>
<p>- CB</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N</p>
<p>To paraphrase Tim McGraw: you like it? you love it? you want some more of it?</p>
<p>(Yes I really do love country music and I'm not even sorry)</p>
<p>Anyway, hope you all enjoyed! And anyone who wants to Fridget out, hit me up on tumblr! (congratulationsbaby on there too)</p>
<p>- CB</p></blockquote></div></div>
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